Permit Me Ask: Where Was His Lordship Emeritus Bishop Osei Bonsu When Galamsey Became De Facto State Policy?
Dear Nyaaba
With all due reverence to the office he once held, it is imperative that we confront this glaring contradiction head-on: Where exactly was His Lordship Emeritus Bishop Osei Bonsu when galamsey was not just tolerated, but practically promoted by agents of the state? Where was the thunderous voice of the Church when excavators vanished under the cover of government operations, rivers turned to poison, and the custodians of our natural heritage were silenced, bought off, or simply ignored?
His Lordship has now found his voice — but found it far too late. To speak loudly after the damage is done, after our forests are ravaged, after our river bodies have been reduced to lifeless filth, after entire communities have been displaced and poisoned — that is not courage. That is convenience dressed in clerical robes.
Let’s be frank. Galamsey did not explode in this country in a vacuum. It flourished under political protection. It was shielded by corruption, financed by elite interests, and at times, it seemed, sanctified by a system that chose votes over values. The looting of Ghana’s lands and waters was not an accidental crisis — it was a deliberate betrayal. And where were our so-called moral leaders when this betrayal was underway?
Where was Bishop Osei Bonsu when known politicians openly defended illegal miners on campaign platforms? When communities cried out for help and were met with state-sponsored silence? When soldiers were deployed not to defend our environment but to protect vested interests? When journalists and activists who spoke out were threatened, harassed, or even killed?
The truth is that during one of Ghana’s darkest moral crises — the peak of the galamsey era — much of the Church, including figures like His Lordship, went disturbingly quiet. Not a pastoral letter, not a national day of lamentation, not even a symbolic gesture of protest. The pulpits fell silent when they should have roared. And now, with power in different hands, when the ecological devastation is so severe that even satellite images can’t hide it, we are being served sermons of belated concern and righteous indignation?
No. We will not accept historical amnesia wrapped in cassocks.
If the Bishop seeks to speak now, let him begin with an admission — a full, unflinching confession of the Church’s failure to rise to the occasion when the nation needed moral clarity most. Let him acknowledge that the moral high ground cannot be reclaimed retroactively. It must be earned in real time — in the trenches, amidst the noise, when speaking truth to power actually costs something.
This country is bleeding. Our water bodies are on life support. Generations yet unborn have already been robbed of their inheritance. And we will not allow anyone — no matter how robed or revered — to rewrite history by pretending that silence in the face of state-backed environmental destruction is somehow forgivable.
Let the record reflect: when the people fought against galamsey, many did so alone — journalists, civil society leaders, and local chiefs, farmers, and youth activists. They braved threats, intimidation, and isolation. The Church, or at least significant parts of it, chose safety over solidarity.
So now, as His Lordship raises his voice, he must first raise his hands in acknowledgment — not as a gesture of moral authority, but as one of repentance. He must come saying mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Anything less is moral opportunism.
Ghana deserves better — not just from its politicians, but from its preachers too.
Sincerely yours,
Kasise Ricky Peprah
The Honourrebel Siriguboy
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